


Earth, the Long Way Round

by Skyuni123



Series: The Return to Earth (Thor and the Asgardians, a three-parter) [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Bisexuality, Comedy, Companionable Snark, Endings, Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Fun, Gen, Loki is a terrible person but im fond of him, M/M, Outer Space, Road Trips, Science Bros, Snark, The Author Regrets Everything, Thor Is a Good Bro, Thor: Ragnarok, post Thor: Ragnarok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-01-30 17:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12657702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyuni123/pseuds/Skyuni123
Summary: Join me for the Great Intergalactic Road Trip™ you've all been waiting for.New Asgard (that is, those who escaped on the ship at the end of Ragnarok) have to travel to Earth. The long way round. There's no mystical bifrost travel here, they're all just stuck in a small spaceship with each other for several months.Watch and enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

So they save the world.

‘Saving’ is an objective term, because what was Asgard is now scattered into atoms - but no-one’s really going to argue with the new King of Asgard, his recalcitrant brother, their giant green friend, a Valkyrie, Heimdall, and a guy made of rocks (?).

(Apparently they’re rocks. No-one’s really thought to ask exactly how that works.)

(No-one seems to mention Miek in their discussions of what Was and what Will Be, because no-one except Korg is really sure what Miek is, and he’s only about three feet tall and not very threatening. The ‘knives for hands’ thing is very rarely mentioned, and only with fear when it is.)

In all, they’re not dead!

It’s a start.

 

They’ve decided to head for Midgard. Whether or not the Earthlings will want them there is another question, but at this point, there’s really no other option. The only problem is, there’s no bifrost any more. Incredibly fast magical travel is something you really take for granted when you have it, and mourn when you don’t.

They’re heading to Earth. The long way round. It’s supposed to take a couple of months.

They’re stuck in a cargo ship - which is not meant for the amount of people they’ve got in it - for a few months. What could go wrong?

The Asgardians, for the most part, are happy with the arrangement. They're just glad not to be dead.

The errant gods/superheroes/giant rock creatures?  
That's a different story entirely.

The first tussle is Loki’s fault.

(Then again, isn't everything?)

He bets Valkyrie (whose name is actually Brunnhilde) that she can't beat him in a poker game the day after they arrive on board.

The winner gets to drive the ship.

Why anyone wants to drive the ship is anyone’s guess - the ship has an autopilot and it basically does what it likes - but still, Brunnhilde and Loki set up for a poker game in one of the smaller cargo bays.

Everyone comes to watch. Korg sells tickets (and novelty flags he handpainted himself).

“Good luck,” Loki says, with a wicked grin. “You'll need it.”

Brunnhilde just rolls her eyes and slaps the table with one hand. “Enough talk, trickster. Deal me up.”

The poker game ends a mere twenty-six seconds later when Loki tries to cheat, Brunnhilde notices, and Loki finds himself pinned against the wall by a furious Valkyrie with a very sharp blade in one hand.

“On second thoughts, you can drive the ship.” Loki says, gently pushing the knife away from his throat with one hand while trying to look completely unphased (and failing miserably). “I never really wanted to. Flight of fancy.”

He flees.

 

It's a good start, considering.


	2. Day Two

No-one really knows why Loki wanted to pilot the ship in the first place - he goes vaguely green every time he looks at the controls, and is generally fairly terrible at piloting besides - but Brunnhilde takes her victory with no small degree of joy and sets about littering the place with bottles of booze.

 

They all seem to congregate in there by the end of the second day - Thor, Loki, Brunnhilde, the Hulk, Korg, Miek, and occasionally Heimdall (who seems increasingly fed up with their antics but tolerates them anyway). It’s not exactly a _spacious_ cockpit, especially with a giant green rage monster and a giant rock man, so most of the time they end up just sitting on the floor.

 

Heimdall, when he’s actually there, perches on a ledge near the back of the room, because he’s _civilised._

 

(Unlike the rest of them.)

 

 

They’ve named the ship _V_ _éurr_ , which someone’s taken the opportunity to scribble in the Old Norse version of Sharpie on the windscreen. Whatever the ship used to be called is irrelevant - knowing the Grandmaster, it’d probably be some derivative of the word ‘orgy’ anyway.

 

The ship basically does what it wants, and there’s not really enough room to spar, so they spend a lot of their time playing games.

 

They exhaust _hnefatafl_ and _hnútukast_ by the end of day two, so they move onto Midgardian and Sakaarian games, most of which involve some form of alcohol.

 

(Typical.)

  


 

“Never have I ever-” Thor announces, holding a flagon larger than his head in the air.

 

Brunnhilde groans.

 

Honestly, as almost everyone in the room is a _god_ (or at least, a derivation of a god), the alcohol thing doesn’t work too well on them.

 

Thor’s actually rather enjoying this. Despite the fact he’s now the Big King Man of Asgard, it doesn’t hurt one to have some downtime occasionally.

 

“Never have I ever,” Thor says again, raucously, and sloshes beer down his arm, “shapeshifted into a horse and given birth to a-”

 

“ **That was a myth** _.”_ Loki protests, but sips his drink anyway with a side glance at the rest of the group.

 

“Was it a myth, Loki?” Thor continues, “because I do recall an eight-legged horse appearing one day in our stables that bore some resemblance to your horse form.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“So are you two saying,” Korg says, looking between them, “that Loki shapeshifted into a horse, had _sex_ with a horse and then gave birth to the horse’s baby. As a horse. Because I don’t even know what a horse is and that’s still weird. It’s really weird, bro.”

 

The Hulk laughs, loudly and prolongedly. He doesn’t have anything to drink, because nobody thinks _that’d_ be a good idea, but he’s tossing a basketball from hand to hand. Why a Midgardian basketball is on a Sakaarian transport vehicle is anyone’s guess.

 

Loki buries his head in his hands, pale cheeks pinking. “It was a _myth.”_

 

“Most myths are based in fact, brother!” Thor raises his flagon to him and drains half of it in one go. “Who’s next?”

 

“Me.” Brunnhilde, who looks vaguely disgusted but not at all surprised by the whole thing, raises her bottle high. “Never have I ever fucked the Grandmaster.”

 

There is a very long, awkward, pregnant pause.

 

And then Loki, who is very obviously trying to avoid eye contact, takes a tiny sip.

 

The room erupts.

 

“I _knew_ it.” Brunnhilde says, looking at Loki with something akin to respect for the first time in days.

 

“Please tell me this is a jest.” From Thor.

 

“Y’know, bro, I’m cool with all that sexual liberation stuff and all, but he’s a _tyrant._ ” Korg.

 

The Hulk just grunts, but then again, Loki’s basically just an eternal disappointment to him anyway.

 

“No jest, brother.” Loki shrugs. “He might be a tyrant, but then again, most people on Midgard think I am as well.”

 

“What was it like?” Brunnhilde seems oddly interested by the whole thing. “He tried it on with me long enough.”

 

“The ...man… is millions of years old.” Loki looks up at her and grins wildly, like a cat. “I’m sure you can figure that one out for yourself.”

 

“But why?” Thor again, who seems rather disappointed in his brother. Then again, when isn’t he?

 

“Brother, you and I have far different ways of approaching confrontation. You choose to fall into it, and nearly get eaten by cannibals -”

 

“Scavengers.” Brunnhilde interjects.

 

“Cannibals.” Loki continues, words sliding off his tongue like honey. “I, on the other hand, used my appearance to my advantage instead of spending a week being electrocuted by a _girl_. You should try it some time.”

 

 

If there wasn’t a giant green rage monster in the way, there’s a fairly high chance that Loki would be spending the next few days embedded into the floor by an angry thunder god and a pissed-off Valkyrie. Even so, the room is looking decidedly mutinous.

 

Loki raises his glass, visibly smug. “Skål, everybody.”

 

There’s a very short pause before everyone jumps on him.

 

The cockpit of the _V_ _éurr_ will never be the same again.


	3. Day Three

It’s day three in the Big Brother house. Loki is bruised and sulking in his room. Heimdall is taking inventory of all of the supplies in the ship, as he’s the only responsible adult within several thousand miles. Korg and Miek are play fighting in the dining hall. 

 

Thor’s sitting in the cockpit with his feet up on the dashboard. He may or may not be dozing, but no-one else is in the room with him so it really doesn’t matter.

 

Brunnhilde opens the cockpit door, notices Thor, comes inside and then slams the door more loudly than is strictly necessary.

 

Thor  _ definitely does not  _ fall off the chair he’s  _ definitely not  _ sleeping on.    


Kings don’t fall off chairs. 

 

“Feet off the dash, Sparks.” Brunnhilde stumbles in and takes his abandoned chair before he’s even had time to sit up. She puts her feet up on the dashboard.

“Am I ‘Sparks’ now?” Thor rubs his shoulder, where it  _ definitely did not  _ just make quite a heavy collusion with the floor. “Why am I ‘Sparks’ now?”

“Making sparks is kinda your schtick, isn’t it?” She stretches out. The captain’s chair wobbles dangerously. 

 

He settles on a spare section of dashboard next to her and crosses his legs. Somehow, he can’t even bring himself to be mad. It’s not at all because he’s half asleep still. “Usually it’s a bit more than sparks.”

“Yeah, but sparks are the quintessential part of it.”

“Right. So what’s the quintessential part of your… thing?”

“My thing?” She blinks innocently at him. “You keep on talking about ‘my thing’, and a girl could get ideas.”

 

“Well…” He  _ had  _ entertained the idea. Momentarily. Before he remembered she was a Valkyrie, and she  _ would  _ kill him. Gods, Valkyries are so cool. “Actually… I’m not going to finish that.”

 

“Wise idea, sunshine.” She points finger guns at him.

 

(‘Finger guns’ are a concept that he only learned about because Tony Stark sat him down in front of something called ‘Urban Dictionary’ in the early-2010s and told him to “go wild”. Aside from learning thousands of ways to have sex that he didn’t know were possible, he had learned a couple of things that had stuck with him.) “How would you describe your… uh… ‘power’ then? If you were meeting someone for the first time who had no idea who you were?”

 

“I’d say I’m a badass with a drinking problem.” She replies, and takes a swig of  _ whatever  _ green substance is in her bottle.

“That is… surprisingly accurate.” 

“Mhmm. I try.” She raises her bottle to him, and teeters worryingly on the chair, but before she can do anything more the door slides open again.

 

The Hulk stumbles in and collapses face down on the floor.

Well. This is a change. 

  
  


Brunnhilde catches his gaze and gestures at the Hulk. 

 

He stares back at her, confused.

 

“Check that he’s not dead, idiot.” She drones and takes another swig from the bottle. 

 

Oh. Yeah. Probably a good idea. 

 

But before he has a chance to move, the Hulk starts to writhe. He flips over onto his back, roaring loudly, and his skin begins to pale. Thor’s seen this before. Thor knows what this is.

 

Brunnhilde, however, looks horrified. “Didn’t he say that he’d probably never be able to change back?”

“Mhmmm. Maybe.” Thor replies, because he can’t really remember if she was actually in the room at the time. 

 

Banner surfaces after a couple of minutes, completely stark naked. It’s not the worst sight in the world. 

(It is a far sight better than Hulk dick, to put it politely.) 

 

“We should probably find him some clothes.” Brunnhilde muses. 

“Yeah…”

Neither of them move.

“And by we I mean  _ you. _ ” She pokes him with the end of the bottle. “Go on. Shift.” 

“I am the  _ King of Asgard _ .” He reminds her, already getting to his feet. “I should have someone to do this for me.” 

“Slaves? Really?”

“Not slaves, servants.”

“Yeah, ‘servants’, or slaves who are paid just enough to keep them from complaining. Not awful at all.” She slurs, and lies back on the chair. “Go on. Be a good friend.”

 

“He’s not a friend, more of an acquaintance.” That’s not even true, and he only says it because he feels like being petulant. His brother gets to be petulant all the time, it’s about time he gets his turn. “Colleague. Workmate?”

Brunnhilde rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, I know you care about him - get out of here.” 

 

He makes his way out of the room, and manages not to step on the very naked Banner on his way out. Win win.


	4. the bedroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thor actually cares and pretends he doesn't.

Banner wakes up just after breakfast the next day.

“Tony?” He slurs, thrashing madly back and forth in his stupor. “Tony?!”

 

“I am not the Man of Iron, my friend.” Thor’s here, too. It’s not like there’s much else to do and he maybe (possibly) (probably not) cares a bit about Bruce too. 

 

Banner’s gaze locks onto his for a second, but then his eyes roll back and he falls back to sleep. 

Thor huffs and starts replacing the cold cloths on Banner’s limbs, which he’s already sweated through.

He’s only doing it because Brunnhilde’s blocking his way out of the door. 

(No other reason.)

(Because Thor  _ doesn’t  _ care about Banner’s condition, no matter what anyone else is telling him. He doesn’t. Really, truly.)

  
  


Banner wakes again during supper. 

 

Thor’s making his way through a boar’s leg, which doesn’t fit on the plate it’s balanced on. 

Everyone else is in the dining hall, because they’re actually sociable, except Brunnhilde who is snoring on the floor.

 

Banner wakes up by falling, rather loudly, out of bed.

There’s a loud thump, several creative swear words in languages that aren’t English and that even Allspeak has trouble translating, and then Banner sits up, blinking, from behind the bed. “Thor?” His voice is rusty, dry from days of underuse.

 

“Hello, my friend!” Thor drops the boar’s leg and helps him to his feet. “You’re alive!”   
  


“Did you expect me not to be?” Banner says, blinking excessively. He rubs at his eyes. “How long was I out?”

 

“Well, Hulk was here for a few days.” Thor says airily. “But you changed back yesterday. It was a tragedy, really.” 

 

He immediately regrets his words when Banner’s face closes up completely. He swallows, wincing, and rasps, “Did anything bad happen while I was out?”

 

“You were naked for a time?”

 

Banner blinks again, shrugs. “That’s fine. Did anything else happen?”

 

“Not under my watch.” 

 

“That’s… fine.” Banner stumbles to the edge of the bed and sits down, narrowly avoiding Brunnhilde, who is still snoring. “Whose… clothes are these?” He picks at the tunic disparagingly, which is deep green, calf length, and belted. 

 

“Korg found them when he was exploring. Tony's clothes were destroyed when the big guy came back. They're probably the Grandmaster’s.”

 

Bruce goes brilliantly, violently scarlet at that. “Whoa.” He says, patting his cheek with one hand. “Pavlovian. That’s… uncomfortable.” He doesn’t look embarrassed, exactly, just baffled.

 

“Pavlovian?”

 

“Pavlov. Earth guy. Behavioural specialist. He did a lot of things with conditioning and neuroscience. Still, weird.” The blush eventually fades but he still looks confused. “Never mind. Did anything else happen?”

 

Thor settles down on the floor opposite him. “My brother tried to best Brunnhilde in a fight and lost, more than once. Brunnhilde’s been drinking. I… haven’t been doing much, really.”

 

“Well, you’re king now, aren’t you?” Bruce looks at him thoughtfully. “I can imagine that’d take a bit of getting used to.” 

 

Thor rubs a hand through his cropped hair, very much not wanting to get into it. “Perhaps.” 

 

Bruce stares at him for a moment, as though he can’t even comprehend what he’s saying. Then his gaze darts away to the floor where he seems to notice Brunnhilde for the very first time. “Is she-?”

 

“She’s fine. Hungover.” 

 

“Of course.” Bruce looks over her again, as though assessing her condition, but when his gaze comes away his cheeks are pink.

 

Thor gasps. “You wish to lay with her.” It’s not actually that surprising. Most people do.

 

“...That’s a little far.” Bruce lowers his gaze, looking squirrely. 

 

“Mmmm, really.” 

 

“She’s smart and beautiful and has a dead wife she’s grieving over. Not really my type.”

 

“Oh.” He’d heard rumors about the Valkyries… he guesses it wasn’t too much of a leap to make. All power to her, he supposes. “Fair enough.” 

 

Bruce shoots him a thankful look. “Yes. Tell me, I remember  _ flashes  _ of Sakaar, at best. Did we really fight in an arena? I beat you, I think. Did your brother actually sleep with a millenia-old dictator or did I dream that? It feels like it actually happened but it also feels like something from a fever dream. Did we actually destroy Asgard?”

 

“I definitely beat you.” Thor replies, and starts retelling the whole story, all over again.

 

He doesn’t inflate anything to make himself look good.   
Not at  _ all. _


	5. Thor and Korg have a Chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags have been changed to reflect where the story is going

The Asgardians, not content to just sit around and while away the days, form the makings of a play about Asgard’s destruction in mere weeks.

Thor is not a theatre person.

Loki, however, takes to the idea of a trip to the theatre in his stride, and even starts  _ directing  _ them! When questioned, he replies, “pretending to be something I’m not? That’s very me, don’t you think?”

 

Everyone just hopes that he’s not trying to cause some kind of uprising.

Because that would be a pain in the ass.

  
  


Thor is on the hunt for kåldolmar, but is gradually resigning himself to the fact that he might just have to make it himself. They’re not running out of food - yet - but they will need to stop off at a planet at some point during their journey so they don’t all starve.

 

Just as he’s about to open the kitchen door, he’s grabbed by the arm and pulled into a side room by Korg.

 

“Can we have a confab?” Korg asks.

 

Thor wonders briefly if his Allspeak’s broken, because that word definitely doesn’t sound like it’s translating the way it should. “Is ‘confab’ Sakaarian for ‘talk’?”

 

“I don’t know.” Korg shrugs, hugely. “The Grandmaster used to say it all the time. I guess it stuck? Can we talk?”   
  


“Sure, my friend. I’m all ears.”

 

They sit.

 

“How are you?” Korg asks, gesturing wildly. “How are you coping with all of this?”

He actually looks worried. It’s really very kind of him.

 

“Well, I’m pushing through. Soldiering on. I’m fine.”

 

“Really?” Korg replies, “Because good self-care is important. Even when I was running my last rebellion my mum always made sure I took breaks. You need to take some ‘me’ time.”

 

“Yes.” Thor replies, even though he isn’t ever going to take the advice to heart. “Enough about me. How’d you even get to Sakaar?”

 

“Oh, it was this great big  _ thing. _ ” Korg sighs. If he could roll his eyes, he’d probably be doing so. “My kindred soul got murdered by the guy in charge of our planet at the time. I was pretty pissed about him dying, ay, so I started up a rebellion in his name to overthrow the government.”

 

“Did it work?”   
  


“Nah.” Korg shrugs again, though it’s obvious the story is hurting him. “Like I said. Didn’t print enough pamphlets.  _ AND  _ the guy had a ton of guards. There was this bomb that they set to lure us out of hiding, and it went off. I thought that I was going to die, but a portal must have opened up, because next thing I knew, Miek and I were stuck on Sakaar. Cheers for the rescue though, by the way.”

 

“It wasn’t...uh… really me.” Thor fumbles, quietly. He’s not really in the mood to ever  _ thank  _ Loki anymore.

 

“Yeah, but your brother’s a dick. I don’t really want to thank him, you feel?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“Chur, bro.” Korg pats Thor on the shoulder with one heavy hand and stands up. “Just wanted to see if you were all g, man. Stay safe.”

 

And with that, he departs.

Thor tilts his head up to the ceiling, consideringly. Gods above, this road trip is utterly, totally, bizarre.

  
  


He quite literally runs into Banner on his way back from the kitchens, plate of homemade kåldolmar clutched on one hand. He very nearly loses the plate, but just manages to right it before anything spills.

 

“Banner?”

 

The other man doesn’t look… great. He’s pale, stumbling a bit, and his eyes keep on flashing green.

Yeah. Bad situation.  _ Bad situation.  _ If the Hulk returns unexpectedly, the ship’s in danger.

 

“Hey, Bruce, you want to come with me for a bit? Have a sit down? I have kåldolmar. They’re delicious. You can have some!”

 

“Yes.” Bruce shakes on his feet, but can’t seem to make them move. “I think - uh- good idea.”

 

“Of course, my friend.” Thor takes him by the arm and gently leads him towards the same anteroom that he and Korg had sat in. It has the added luxury of being fairly dark and without windows. “Do you want to… uh… sit down?”

 

“Probably a good idea.” Bruce drops to his knees, then sits back and pulls his knees back to his chest. It doesn’t seem like he can stop himself shaking.

 

“What’s going on, buddy?” Thor asks, holding out the kåldolmar plate. “I thought you were feeling a lot better.”

 

“Yeah, till I took a walk on the observation deck!” Banner yelps, “Space is a lot of pressure, Thor! I’ve never done space before. The Other Guy doesn’t like space.”

 

He totally ignores the kåldolmar plate, which Thor sees as a bit of an affront. He doesn’t comment on it, though, because he’d actually like to keep the ship in one piece. “Space is fine, Bruce. We’re safe inside, remember? The Grandmaster wouldn’t keep any ship that wasn’t totally safe.”

 

“Yeah, you try telling my friend that.” Bruce mutters, and rests his head in his hands. “It really doesn’t feel like I should be here.”   
  


“That’s just the Pavlovian stuff talking.” Thor’s actually been doing some  _ reading.  _ It’s fascinating, if not a little horrific. “Of course you should be here. Would you prefer to be back on Sakaar as a slave?”

 

“Of course not.” Bruce huffs. “Look… it’s just-” He groans. “Never mind. You wouldn’t get it.”

 

Thor reaches out a hand and carefully squeezes Banner on the bicep. It’s the sort of situation where he’d usually go for a hug, but he doubts that Bruce would appreciate it at this very moment. “Try me.”

 

“They saw the Hulk as a god.” Bruce moans. “And now I’m back and every time I lose control, I terrify everyone around me. Look at you! You’re treating me like I’m made of glass.”

 

“I’m worried about you, Bruce, not the Hulk. Look at you! You’re freaking out. Tell me what’s wrong.” And to his surprise, he’s not even lying. He genuinely gives a damn about Bruce now. Funny how adversity does that to a person.

 

“Oh my God, where to start.” Bruce whines. “How weird have the last couple of weeks been? I was enslaved by a guy who looked weirdly like Jeff Goldblum -”

 

“No idea who that is but go on.”

 

Bruce stops and gapes at him, just for a second. “Attractive guy in Jurassic Park? Please tell me you’ve seen that.”

 

“Ah, yes. The Jurassic Park. Of course. Go on.” He did enjoy that film, though had been disappointed to learn that the park itself wasn’t actually real.

 

“Jeff Goldblum enslaved me, I spent two years being carted around as a fighter - most of which I can’t even remember - then you show up, manage to turn me back, and we destroy your planet.” Bruce lies down on his back and stares up at the ceiling. “Not to mention the sheer  _ array  _ of tentacle porn that there seems to be on this ship, as well as all of the food, all of the  _ nonsense  _ that you ‘gods’ get up to, and also the fact that WE’RE IN SPACE. It’s a lot to deal with.”   
  


“I can imagine why you’d think so.” Thor can’t, really. He’s known space and oddities for all of his life. He’s just learned to go with it. Contemplation is more of his brother’s thing.

 

“Yes!” Bruce sighs and puts his arms over his face. “I’m just going to stay in this room forever.”

 

“That’s… a really bad idea.”

 

“Why? It’s quiet, it’s windowless, your brother isn’t here…”

 

“You’d go mad within a day without something to experiment on.”

 

“I am completely happy to sit here for a day and see who’s right.” Bruce groans into his arms. It’s muffled, but obviously very frustrated.

 

“Nope.” Thor grabs the kåldolmar plate and pushes it towards him. “I’m not going to let you do that. Have a kåldolmar and I’ll teach you a fine technique I know called ‘ignoring everything that goes wrong unless it’ll directly cause the end of the world…”

It’s a start.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's an abrupt ending, but happiness can't last forever.

“Something feels off.” Loki catches up to him in the corridor the next morning, not even bothering with a greeting. “Something in the universe is wrong.”

“Good morning to you too, brother. How are you today?” Thor is oddly cheery. He is not going to let anyone ruin his mood.

“It’s not morning, you ingrate, we’re in  _ space. _ ” Loki grabs his arm and pulls Thor to face him. “I’m telling you. Something is wrong.”

 

Thor looks around, considers the tone in his brother’s voice and the two Asgardian women walking down the corridor towards them. Fuck’s sake. He drags Loki into the nearest sideroom, which happens to be the pantry. “What.”

Loki settles down on the floor, irritatingly slowly. “I was… doing magic things - look, you wouldn’t understand even if I told you. Something is wrong in the universe. There’s a… presence coming.”

“Brother, you’re really going to have to give me more than that.” Thor sits down on the floor too. There’s nothing really of interest that’s edible around him, but he wishes there was. 

“I can’t, okay? Just- look, I don’t actually want our people to die. We need to make preparations if we want to survive the coming days.” And there’s something in his brother’s eyes that is  _ so  _ earnest that Thor wants to believe him. 

 

But he doesn’t know if he can.

 

Loki is fond of jests, he’s fond of causing trouble and of making a nuisance of himself. Anyone stuck on a spaceship for several months is prone to cabin fever - it’s very likely that he’s just trying to cause trouble. 

 

But there’s something about that look…

 

His hands shoot out and grab Loki’s wrists, almost without him bidding them to. “Swear on our mother’s life that this isn’t a joke.”

Loki winces and tries to pull his hands away. “Let me go first.”

“No. I can’t worry the Asgardians without cause. Swear to me that this trouble is real. Swear to me.” Gods above, Loki’s hands look so small within his grasp. Have they always been that way? Now is too late to be imagining such minutiae, but he can’t look away.

“Brother, I-” 

If he was a more naive man he’d swear that Loki even looks a bit worried. “Swear to me.”

“Fine. Fine! I swear. I swear on our mother’s life that this isn’t a jest. There’s something coming to find us. I don’t know what and I don’t know when, but it’s _coming._ It’s following us, just waiting to catch up. We need to prepare or we’re both going to die here.” Loki exhales sharply, then says, “... can you let me go now?”

 

He lets him go, because really, what choice does he have?

 

Loki’s not lying. He’s known him for long enough to realise that. The thought is… unfortunate. Loki doesn’t get scared by much, but that look in his eyes…

 

It’s something akin to fear and that’s not a good thing.

 

Loki rubs at his wrists.

 

There’s red imprints over his pale skin and Thor feels a little bad for a moment. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it was just a shock.” 

“Loki.”

“No.” The other man’s deflecting, it’s obvious, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Call a meeting. Inform the Asgardians that they need to be ready to leave whenever we give the word.”

Sometimes he wonders if his brother would have been better for the throne. “Yes.” 

“Tell your people. I will be in my room.” And with that, he departs gracefully, as though he’s entirely unaware that he’s just rocked Thor’s world.

 

Fuck.

 

-

He goes to Brunnhilde first. She doesn’t seem surprised, though she does seem wary about Loki’s confession. “Figured this paradise wouldn’t last.” She drawls, and starts stuffing things into a bag. “I’ll head up to the cockpit soon. See if there’s a way we can predict this thing that  _ doesn’t  _ rely on magic.”

“Thank you.” Thor says, plainly. There’s nothing more he can really say.

“Thank me when we survive this.”

-

Korg and Miek aren’t so hard to find - they’re sparring, in one of the empty rooms. He lets them know the news, tells them not to panic (even though he’s panicking, just a little bit) and then says much the same to Heimdall. The other man fixes him with a look that suggests he knows more than he appears, but he doesn’t say anything and just begins to pack his belongings away.

 

Then he goes to Bruce.

 

Bruce is meditating in his own room, thick incense creating a heady fog in the air. Thor wonders where he got it.

Knowing the Grandmaster, he probably had his own personal supply.

 

“Banner?” Thor says, quietly, because he doesn’t want to frighten the man. 

 

A frightened Banner means a Hulk, possibly, and he doesn’t need that right now.

 

“Thor?!” Bruce blinks, bleary-eyed, but he does brighten at the sight of him.

 

Which is good, considering the news he’s about to get.

 

“Hi, Banner.” Thor sinks to the floor, so he’s right at Bruce’s level. “I’ve got something to tell you.” 

“If it’s about Loki and the grain- that was  _ not  _ my fault-” Bruce starts, but stops at the look on Thor’s face. “I take it it’s not about that?”

“No.” He doesn’t even want to know about that anecdote. “I’m going to tell you something and it would be  _ super great  _ if you could not panic about it, okay?”

Bruce balks at him, paling almost immediately. “You really can’t tell someone like me ‘not to panic’ about something, Thor. Really doesn’t help the constant anxiety. What is it?”

“Something’s following us. Something bad. I don’t know what but we need to prepare for it. We need to get ready to evacuate.”

 

Bruce’s eyes widen and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Thor, we’re in  _ space.  _ Where on earth do we evacuate to in space? I’ve only just gotten over the ‘we’re in space’ thing! I can’t even think about the fact that we might need to leave this mostly-structurally-sound spaceship without getting a little nauseous.” 

Thor leans forward, puts his hands over Banner’s hands on his knees and starts massaging them, rubbing circles into the warm flesh. And yeah, it’s a little awkward, but it actually seems to be doing the trick, because Banner’s posture begins to relax a little. “I need to you not freak out over this. I need you, not the Hulk, okay? We’ve got an entire race to look after and I can’t do that if you’re freaking out.”

“Have you ever met me?” Bruce mutters, “I am the very definition of ‘freaking out’.”

“Please, Bruce, not today.” He presses his thumbs in further, feels the thin bones underneath the surface of the other man’s skin. 

 

He hates that he’s begging, he hates that he’s doing this. He hates that he  _ has  _ to do this. He wishes that he could make it all better for Bruce, teach him that the whole world doesn’t actually want to destroy him, but he doesn’t have the time.

He doesn’t even know how much time they have, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

 

“I need you to pack up your stuff, be ready to leave whenever we need to. Can you do that for me?” 

Bruce blinks slowly at him, obviously lulled into calmness a bit by the movement of his hands. But he doesn’t say no. “Yes… I will. When are you telling the Asgardians?”

“Today.”

 

He’s got to. 

 

-

He has the meeting, he tells the people, they worry, they panic, but they  _ prepare.  _

And now, it’s just a waiting game.

 

Waiting to see if somebody comes.

 

Waiting to see if his brother is telling the truth.

 

Waiting to see if somebody snaps.

 

But six days go by and there’s nothing.

It feels like they’re out of the danger, and like everything’s going to be fine. 

  
  


Thor joins Loki at one of the viewing platforms on the side of the ship. Space glitters beautifully in front of them - an absolute vista just waiting to be explored.

It feels safe.

 

“I must admit,” Loki says, staring out into the universe with some wonder, “I expected something to happen by now.”

 

Thor chortles, although he doesn’t really feel it, and thumps Loki on the back. He's relieved, more than anything, and so,  _so_ grateful he has his brother beside him.

 

“I wouldn’t worry, brother, I feel like everything is going to work out fine.”

 

**FIN.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see the rest of this series for what happens next!
> 
> (the other two works follow straight on from this one, and then the aftermath of Infinity War)
> 
> Love you all. :)

**Author's Note:**

> come and scream with me about how talented taika waititi is at [ my tumblr ](http://villainousfilmmaker.tumblr.com)


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